Flowing River, babbling brook
by Shadowwreath
Summary: A River dances its way gently down the mountain. River is lost to the rift of her own mind and pursued through the endless reaches of space. Simon is an exile, merely trying to help his sister. Will alternate opportunities change the fate of the desperate? Slightly AU, primarily regarding the beginning. Rated T, may change. Please R&R! Helpful suggestions are appreciated.


Swift was not a way I would describe the escape. Less of a 'smash and grab' escape, more of an assault on a small fortress. We had been planning for over three months. Four weeks of logistical preparation had gone into a four hour window. Five hundred credits worth of fuel, transport and equipment, we had gambled everything. Twenty one of us entered, six left. With sanity loosly intact.

We had one loosely placed mole in the skeleton mercenary crew. It was a small but well-stocked facility, one of the most important; and the most secret. The facility contained five 'Doctors', three orderlies and ten Sec-ops hirelings. Very well trained, but hirelings nonetheless. Three other students of the 'Academy' were kept within. According to files obtained during the assault, experiment subjects were placed in spread out locations, to ensure less chance of over-all compromise. 'The Project' or 'Human weapon Designation: II' was an attempt to create a compliant, powerful but highly intelligent government agent. 'Designation I' created Operatives; efficient and focused, but not intuitive enough. River was their third crack at Designation II, the previous two's minds were broken completely during 'programming'. They were culled.

Five and a half months ago I had received her letter. The words encoded within had succinctly read "They are hurting us. Get me out." I had tried to raise this with my parents, but they dismissed my concerns out of hand.

"She's fine."They said, "You're imagining it. Don't be so paranoid."

I mulled over her letter for three days, but I had to know for myself. River's letter was filled with anomalies and I thought I had decoded it correctly. The feeling of innate worry did not leave me. I'm extremely glad it didn't.

Working in high places sometimes gives one paradoxical opportunities' to catch lower rumours. Or rumours of rumours. A small hacker cell was entrenched in the city and I had had passing contact with members before. I decided to ask one of this 'Academy'. I quickly found pay dirt, discussing pay dirt. No-one applied, very few ever had official documentation truly proving their acceptance or transport. No one knew where it was, or how long the term of education actually was. The cell tenuously connected with a medium-sized group of ex-Independents. Strangely, the group was not based on one of the outer planets but Londinium itself! They secretively infiltrated middling echelons of the Alliance and Alliance-supporting companies and secretly diverted or 'lost' goods and such. These goods were then sent to and used upon struggling settlements in the outer planets.

I was approached by a representative of this group and asked why the hell was I being so nosey. I told him. The Independence underground connected four other 'Academy' pupils. All of them had very high IQs and were under the age of thirteen. Apparently there were others. All of this happened in the space of a month or so. It took five weeks for both groups working in conjunction to find evidence of any underhanded dealings, but they did find some. Ghost records, bare traces of building material orders and medical equipment were found in a sub-directory of a random executive. The executive worked for the Blue Sun Corporation. Going out on a limb, they traced the location of delivery. It was as if the place had never existed. No registered structures on-planet, the planet itself was listed as 'uninhabitable'. Looking a little further, the hackers found even more obscured data relating to a mercenary contract. There were no alliance links whatsoever.

I was curious and suspicious. The underground's leaders were sceptical. I couldn't really blame them, there was no solid evidence, but I had a gut feeling. I followed it.

I was desperate enough to offer to fund the undergrounds operations from my personal accounts, the hackers as well. My only condition was to assist and provide transport on and off that damned rock. They accepted and reluctantly offered some training and actual manpower. Twenty men; quite a generous gesture now that I think about it. I loaned sizable amounts of cash from three Central system banks on long-term contacts, my apartment and trust fund were collateral. Ironically, I soon emptied my entire trust into the coffers of the hackers, who were feebly trying to get some details on the 'Academy'.

One man was a God-send. David Esarė was a Blue Sun employee who disappeared on rather long 'working trips'. He had been working in the public side of bio-neuro technologies for the famed Science and Engineering department. David was moved to R&D. Quietly horrified at some of the more extreme experiments conducted in the name of progress, David was transferred to the Project after proving his psycho-neuro expertise. He wanted out.

A quiet deal only brokered due to very fortuitous and coincidental contact was made regarding one extra escapee and one Trojan horse. The operation involved forty-odd people, hinged on the loyalty and timing of one and funded entirely by me. I demanded a place on the assault team due to my role and initial discovery. Surprisingly, they acquiesced, but only if I trained. For two months.

The entry was simple, a disguised short-range transport ship, with a rotation of mercs and supplies for the facility. We had jacked the real ship and replaced it. Needless to say, few plans survive first contact with the enemy.

We managed to get into the facility proper, but were noticed as 'funny' by the merc captain. All hell broke loose. Our group had split up, ten to move to the staging point for the merc's actual patrol, eleven to drop off the facilities supplies. My group managed to get the 'supplies' to the compounds back entrance and place the box' contents correctly. It blew through the wall quite well. Opening of further boxes revealed weapons that we had been recently training in. We quickly entered the facility with little initial resistance.

The primary group didn't fare so well. Caught up in a corridor as they were, surprisingly only five fell in the first few minutes. Both sides backed up and a firefight developed. As the security contractors were already concentrated in that part of the building, they had the numerical advantage. The primary assault group still managed to give a reckoning of itself even after a literal bi-section and took out almost a third of the Sec-Ops numbers.

We were slightly more successful. Esarė waiting for us near the back entrance and he quickly directed my group to the medical complex. Four corpses awaited us, all in the staffroom and four glasses were smashed on the ground. Apparently, Esarė had poisoned them with an overdose of their own medication supplies. The 'orderlies' were quickly subdued, as it was evening. The 'patient' quarters were relatively close to the medical complex, there were only three real buildings. We had heard the firefight and about this moment and decided to intervene. Five of my improvised squad moved on ahead with grenades. I stayed behind to look for River.

Exploring the other side of the medical complex revealed some interesting rooms. Files, computer terminals and large black lockers indicated that this facility was not merely for medical experiments, but technological as well. We postponed investigating these preliminary findings until a more convenient time and continued searching. Two more rooms, seemingly archival and device storage, were found before a prison block.

Six inch thick steel plates surrounded the cells and the doors were reinforced further. What were they expecting? We had taken three key-cards from the 'doctor's' bodies and tried all three on the first cell door. Only one worked. The resident of this apartment was splayed out on the floor, chair toppled and restraints ripped. He had been strong and desperate enough to rip through them and kill himself. The corner of the bed and floor was stained with blood.

The other two prisoners were in somewhat better condition. River had small needle-wounds on her forehead, hands and neck. The other was relatively lucid but had enflamed strap-marks across his arms and chest. We had to hold him down and explain.

The back of Rivers head was bandaged, but no blood was visible. I thought it odd at the time and dismissed it. I regret that decision. Esarė rushed behind us on our way to the front entrance and the other patient was on a stretcher. River was light enough and dizzy enough to have to be carried.

Three mercs remained; before grenades that is. We decided to enact a contingency previously decided upon as I did not know the medical state of River or the unknown patient beyond cardiac and skeletal stability. Both of them were placed in short term cyro on the ship.

Now seemed a good time to go back and investigate those almost forgotten rooms. Esaė gave no insight to their contents, aside from general entries into the paper archives. Paper being almost redundant, we supposed things being physically recorded must be a security measure against hacking, closed networks aside.

Now with some time on our hands, we split into three groups. Two men stayed with the ship, one being Esaė. A technology inclined woman named Joise Harward came with me to the first two rooms and the remaining two searched the archives and computer terminal. All four of us found a surprising amount. The first storage room after the computer terminals was a purely medical one, filled with vials of drugs and vaccinations. The second room was much more varied. It also had a rather heavy door, almost on par with the patient' cells. Dozens of analysers, -scopes and other therapy related medical equipment dominated one side of the room. On the other side was placed odd-looking gauntlets, harnesses and vaguely weapon-like apparatus. They looked like a very shiny but deadly arsenal.

"What the heck are they?" I articulately asked Harward.

"I can only identify the harnesses as utility or ammunition webbing, some of the rest look like guns but I have never seen their designs before. We have to take it all back." She replied, her visage creased with curious confusion.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Swiftly making our way back to the ship, we were intercepted by the two sent to the archives. Their brows were creased. "Most of the filing cabinets were empty, but one contained details of the three patients." One explained. "We will take these back to the ship, but I find it odd only one cabinet was full, with two partly so."

"Indeed, I wonder if River and the other two were the first of several. Thank you and keep going... Wait!" I stopped them turning. What of the computer terminals?"

"Nothing, there was nothing on them, but two micro-drives were plugged in. We'll retrieve those as well."

"Good, off you go then." Resuming our quick walk back to the transport, I pondered the unknown technology and the true purpose of the complex. Returning with multiple padded crates and the assistance of Manning and Esarė, we gently packed the contents of the vault-like storage room. We needed to take a second trip. The first room was packed with significantly more ease, but still required a significant amount of space. Its insides rivalled many major hospitals, including the one I worked at on Osiris. Which says quite a lot.

We wanted to leave and the bodies were getting to us. After one last look around each room, I hazarded a glance into the 'computer room'. It paid off. In a shadowed nook of to the side of the rear-most terminal, I saw a glint. A small 7' by 4' black, chrome lined box was shoved into the corner, as if deliberately hidden. I looked inside.

A single data-pad with a master chip and micro-drive lay padded in black foam, innocently twinkling in the fluorescent lighting. I pocketed the box and left.

The six of us remained, thankfully still having someone with flight training and we drifted through inter-planetary space back to our staging point. I took out the datapad and turned it on. The interface asked for my finger print. Cautiously; and only because we were out of any communications range; I slid the pad of my right index finger over the side scanner. Thankfully, but surprisingly, my print was accepted. The interface flashed and asked for a verbal passcode to be set. I carefully enunciated "River Eloise Tam". The screen flashed again and displayed "Security parameters set. Please enter user data." Frowning, I followed through, with a username and various other questions, culminating in "Are any other users to be accepted by this datapad?" I entered "One."

A familiar home interface opened up, with a few obvious extras; namingly, access to the encrypted 'Blue Sun Cortex' an application called Access and further connections to Blue Sun and Alliance mainframes, noticed and appearing only as we came into comms range. This was no ordinary datapad.

Packing it back in its case for another time, I walked over to River's cryo chamber, mundane and unwindowed as it was, and lamented both her circumstances and my timing. I almost broke down. Back at the facility, her haggard appearance and blank gaze wrenched at me, but I had ignored it. Her body was so limp, a pitiful shadow. Now in the silence of space, save the hum of efficient engines, River's face haunted me.

When she left she had been so lively, her eyes smiling as she danced across the department lounge. My spry, graceful little sister. She was a genius in her own right, blowing her way through the mainstream education program. She took advance physics and mathematics at ten. She was brilliant. I miss that mischievous grin and amused look as we bade her farewell. That last hug and kiss on the cheek, that last joke. Melancholy enveloped my consciousness and I wept.

Sometime later, someone shook me from my silent vigil. It was David. "I'm sorry, but I was only there for the last few weeks. I didn't know what they did to her, they seemed to concentrate on the one that killed himself. Subject Seven. I don't recall his name." He solemnly informed me.

"Brilliant." I sarcastically bit back with some venom. "That really helps." I shoved his hand of my shoulder.

Stumbling past him, I walked off the transport and onto the staging point; a small moon near Londinium, yet not entirely inhabited. The leader of the Underground, Charles Dennis approached me. "Fifteen dead, their bodies are on the transport." I reluctantly announced. "We have some interesting cargo, unknown weapons and equipment, surprising considering the location."

Charles' face darkened but his brow lifted questioningly. "Weapons? I suppose it was a secret Blue Sun facility, but I thought it was medical."

"So did I, I suppose it could be the fact that a secret development and storage center was in a convenient location. Although they may have had limited space, or it may have been temporary." I pondered. 'What was the data-pad doing there' I mused to myself silently.

"Curious indeed. Oh well, since we weren't really expecting much salvage, we'll simply have to negotiate shares. Since you provided virtually all the funding, how's fifty-fifty sound?" Charles responded hopefully.

"Sixty-forty." I countered. "I came up with my original misgivings and started this whole thing. I have a greater chance of being caught and have to pay off multiple large loans."

"Very well, I can accept that. Let's load it off first." Charles replied, lightly grinning. "Shame about the others though." His grin was gone.

We unloaded the transport quickly, but River and 'Subject Seven' remained in cryo. The hackers and other associated groups set to work identifying our salvage. The medical supplies and equipment were rather easy as they were labelled, with the exception of two boxes of an unusual compound and a silvered box the size of a torso. They were sealed with a strange lock and so were put aside.

The harnesses were identified positively as body armour of a rather thin weave, with battery-like objects in some of the webbing compartments. Semi-conventional laser ammunition batteries were placed in the other compartments, along with bullets. Silvered enlarged bullets, but bullets none-the-less. The guns were guns. Aside from having outrageous range and power capability, they also could switch multiple barrels. This, coupled with total firing method exchange meant that they could potentially fire energy bolts or bullets, but could only be fired by the person keyed to them, via biological identification.

Blue Sun had been busy. According to the meagre records gained from the archives, these were prototypes, so someone was going to be looking for them. Charles and I agreed with a percentage of sixty for salvage value which was calculated by monetary value for all appraised items, primarily the medical. The prototypes and three 'interesting' boxes were divided differently. Due to the underground's potential need for them, Charles took most of the weapons, giving me five prototype laser rifles and eight pistols, with a slight increase in proportion of ammunition going to me. W divided the thin body-armour and contents similarly, I kept six. In exchange for the larger amount of weapons Charles claimed, he gave up the three un-valued 'boxes'.

Charles offered River and I a ride to a mid-rim planet, I had to accept because the alliance would want its pet project back. We had to start running. To Persephone we flew.


End file.
